“We’ll meet again ”was the last thing I thought about before I shut my eyes and the darkness took me.
“Wake up sunshine” I heard the sound of Henry, one of the caretakers of this place, this place being the hospital for the mentally sick, a. k. a. Mad people. I was placed here after my unsuccessful attempt at taking my own life. If you ask me why I did it, I wouldn’t know either, I have no memory of doing it, sure life sucks and I wouldn’t care if suddenly the world dropped dead. I told this to the counsellor so she put me in here. If you ask me, jumping from a Two storey building sounds like a rookie mistake and now here I am constantly under surveillance but I’m trying to keep myself entertained by watching the antics of other patients.
Just yesterday, Ruth cut her own bangs then cried for an hour because it made her look like a horse. But that is not what makes her mad, the fact that she claims her dead grandma is the one who cut those bangs is why she is here. Sorry Rue but blaming granny for your bad decisions will only make you stay here permanently.
There is also Mary who killed her husband and 3 daughters because she loved them dearly and wanted them to be closer to God. I try to stay away from her, what if she starts loving me.
Then there is David who likes to pull down people’s pants at random times. But once you see him do it 12 times a day, it gets boring. This place is actually very sad and no matter how much I keep myself entertained, I just look forward to sleep time where I can shut my eyes and the world is dead to me. But then I wake up and they are alive, just like now.
Henry continued talking, oblivious to my inner monologue. I focused my attention on him “There is a new patient joining today and you are his assigned buddy to show him around”he said. I gave him a thumbs up and went to the hall to meet my new buddy. The buddy seemed to be around my age and was extremely handsome. Given that there was a scarcity of boys here who look cute and are my age, I was excited to show him around.
“Hi Sylvia, I’m Ralph,” he said. We shared pleasantries while I gave him a tour of the garden, which is the best part of this place. I asked him why he was here. He said that he works here and is not a patient, but given that he is wearing the blue uniform that they assign to the male patients, it is safe to say that he is delusional. He plucked a rose from the garden and gave it to me, said that it matched with my Red uniform and thanked me for showing him around. He sounded genuine and sweet. We struck up a friendship and everyday I hung out in the garden with him and spent time making up stories about the mad people here. Sometimes we did bird watching together. He said that he wanted to flyyyy and be free like a thunderbird.
He had a good voice and it used to brighten up my mood whenever he sang for me. We ended up sleeping together and then made a habit out of it, much to Mary’s wrath, she told me that I will not be welcomed in Heaven, though I am not sure which sin is she worried about, my attempt at suicide or me sleeping with Ralph. But how bad can hell be compared to this world anyway.
Today when Ralph did not come to my room I went to check on him and there he was, dead with a slit wrist. The world got to him I guess.
I did not scream or yell, I was numb and so decided to test Mary’s theory about heaven. I went to the roof and looked below. Two storeys look deep enough. I jumped.
“We’ll meet again” was the last thing I thought about before I shut my eyes and the darkness took me.
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The story was inspired by the poem below:
Mad Girl’s Love Song
By Sylvia Plath
“I shut my eyes
and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids
and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes
and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed
that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck,
kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky,
hell’s fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan’s men:
I shut my eyes
and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you’d return the way you said,
But I grow old
and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes
they roar back again.
I shut my eyes
and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)”
Lourdes Sheejo 